Perception
by DyanneRamsay1
Summary: My summaries suck, but I think I write pretty well. Ana and Christian reverse roles. Request.
1. Chapter 1

Paperwork; there was always so much god-damn paperwork. Paper work with no finite purpose was especially irritating. Today had already been too long; what with my most recent submissive's inopportune decision to take flight-things like these always happened at the most expedient of times. "We'll have everything straightened out and convene tomorrow morning if that's alright?" I looked up, my eyes scanning the table till they settled on the owner of said voice. I nodded, the frustration level rising with each passing second that I spent in doing anything other than finding some kind of release… _Jesus Christ, I was horny_. I gathered the documents that I'd more than likely find myself reviewing and correcting over the course of the next few weeks; I'd have to put my personal life to the side for the time being-despite my conscience frequent requests for otherwise.

It wasn't long that I'd been sitting at my desk, mulling over transcripts and documents sent over from our partners in Seoul- I'd be required to make a visit there; Korean's were known for their tact discipline-perhaps I may find an acceptable submissive there, before I'd been told by my assistant to expect the interviewer from Seattle Daily. I'd been spending the entirety of the most recent quarter denying any sort of interviews from said publication; however, determination proved to be the strong suit of one particular journalist: Blake Manchester. The name alone was conveniently demanding, let alone the woman it belonged too. I'd taken purpose in reviewing the qualifications of said reporter to know exactly what I was up against-now she had moxy, but I wasn't prepping myself for any hard core business questions, more or less teenage babbling about the sexual orientation of one of the top business leaders in Seattle.

"Ms Steele? Mr Grey on behalf of Ms Manchester?"

I wasn't particularly keen on surprises, ones like these however always wound me into favourable circumstances. I looked up from my computer, slid my Lou Boutins back onto my feet, and found my footing. He was tall, handsome, perhaps not as well kept as he could've been provided his likely position within such a prestigious publication firm… young, he looked young. I stretched my hand out to greet him, his eyes an impressive shade of blue, almost grey to one who observed closely. "Mrs Steele… Christian Grey. Ms Manchester is indisposed, so I'll be filling in on her behalf." Mrs? As if I weren't already dreading an interview, the preparation research that went into said interview had apparently been skipped; strike one for Mr Grey.

"I see. You're working as a reporter as well?" I asked him, taking time to review his face-to study him. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, top three buttons undone to allow for the tease that was the pectorals chiseled out underneath. I allowed my eyes to scan him, caring not for any sort of tea and bagel chatter that may evolve from a small coincidental possibility that I'd been checking him out. As he spoke, I allowed my gaze to descend below his belt; black polyester office attire pants and a form from beneath those pants that seemed as though it were capable of holding its own. I'd imagined from taking the time to admire him that he'd never understood real pleasure; pleasure that'd allow him to completely lose control. He'd need too.

"As I said, I only have ten minutes-please… have a seat."

I gestured to my desk and found my way back there as well. My hair had become too heavy to sit on my shoulders and I soon made an effort of taking it off my ears and pinning it up on my head. During said action, I'd taken note of Mr Grey's unwavering stare that'd found its way to my backside but quickly and surely made the journey back to my eyes hopefully before I'd noticed-so we had a biter.

The interview had begun as per usual-standard questions which typically initiated the same plastered response, negating any type of real interest. I was cognoscente of the fact that he'd wanted more; the questions were obviously not his, and staring at his mouth-watching it move while forging a listening ear every three or four seconds, that would inevitably result in me losing my patience. "What about you? Why don't you ask me a question… That you want to know?" I rose, demanding with said movement all of his attention, and sauntered across my desk and found my place in the lounge chair opposite my adorably sexy interviewer. I crossed my legs, the friction created by this movement, along with the tightness of my stockings causing a quake in my clitoris-I was aching for a submissive, but by no means would I underestimate the form of anybody.

"Earlier you self proclaimed that you are proud of the work you've done, proud of the titles you've been given… Why do I get the feeling that is not true?" He stared back at me, and in a minute my arousal was gone and all manner of colour with the exception of what's artificial had left my face. I'd been caught off guard-I'd never imagined that someone had actually been listening. My guard had been let down, I'd been caught unassumed, and in a matter of seconds I was four years old again…

" _Mommy… Mommy!" I couldn't run fast like my mommy-she could run so fast. I tried though; I tried to run like her and that's why my belly always hurted after we would run, because I ran so fast. Finally we stopped, and when we did it was right in front of Sanji Mart-the place with the windows and big tv's. It was mommy's favourite place. She took my hand, she was so cold all the time…_

" _Baby, one day… You're gonna be such a big lady. You Know that?" She was talking small and I couldn't hear her. I knew what she was trying to say but I couldn't really because she was talking so small. I looked over her shoulder and I saw the bad guys coming. I was mommy's sidekick so I always had to tell her to run when the bad guys would come._

" _Mommy look!" I yelled. I knew we would run again so I grabbed onto her jacket and we ran… We were always running…_

"Ms Steele… Your next meeting is in the conference room." I blinked a few times, shaking each memory loose from my mind. I nodded and looked at Christian. "I'll be seeing Mr Grey out, delay the meeting… I'll be there." He was stunned temporarily, and I imagine that he'd revert back to the bumbling idiot that'd walked into my office to begin with, but he surprised me. "Thank you, Ms Steele… for sharing more than I'd anticipated." I studied him as he spoke, and I realized there were more dimensions to what I'd initially suspected… I wasn't sure what I'd thought of him now-I wasn't sure how much I'd like that.

I walked him to the elevator, each step analyzing him and making mental notes of his overall behaviour and conduct; I'd have nothing each time I'd revert back to my thoughts and what I'd gathered on why this man could've possibly managed to allow me to under or overestimate him. He was interesting, and I'd need to understand more of him. "I hope you'd got everything you're looking for." I said with reservation, my tone a lot more icy than I'd initially intended it. He didn't care, his lack of rejoinder indicated to me that he'd either been satisfied knowing that he'd left me bewildered or that he'd had no idea the effect he'd had on me. "I believe you only answered four questions Ms Steele." The elevator dinged and in a moment his exit was apparent; he turned and I quickly confiscated the piece of parchment that held the questions. I'd follow up where follow up was necessary, but I had full intention on finding out who he is.

"Christian…"

Anastasia…"

Fan request from ObeliskX  
Thanks bros and gogos for being so patient  
More to come from this story and I hope you enjoy it


	2. Chapter 2

" _Jesus… Christ!"_

 _I shuddered; my whole body began to quake and my release was imminent. I wanted to experience a true orgasm-I wanted to know real pleasure; by God I was feeling it. I never wanted this to end; I didn't want to resume my regular day to day schedule-I relished in the reality that was voluntarily abdicating my control. He slapped me, the harsh sting of his hand across my cheek was… invigorating. I was close and I could feel the coil winding itself in my belly. My clit was swollen, aching for one nudge or one graze that might send me toppling over into a maze of pure ecstasy-I was so close._

 _I lifted my eyes for just a fraction of a second, allowing myself to commit such a blatant act of disobedience at the opportunity of being rewarded with his punishment. He caught me and I used what little strength I had left to thrust my hips forward; although my torture was beyond that of pleasure as far as human comprehension goes, I needed to cum. His eyes flashed towards mine and my heart lurched, my mind began to unravel and I could feel the world crumbling around my feet. As opposed to the welcoming and familiar green, they were a dangerously proverbial shade of gray…_

I awoke in a heavy layer of sweat. I hadn't allowed my mind to return back to the dream sequence that nearly presented itself in the form of an unconscious orgasm; I needed to focus on the many impending tasks at hand, none of which included much less required the aid of Seattle Daily's incredibly sexy staff member. I'd spent the night before suppressing my desires to utilize every manner of information gathering that was available to me to gather more Intel on my mysterious interviewer. Luckily for him, I'd spent most of the interview focusing on how he'd look wound up in my Red Room with a pair of leather cuffs than I had actually focusing on neither his position nor his political party.

He certainly was a man of mystery, and I hadn't just said that based on the lack of information made available to my brain to process based on my own selfish desires, but his eyes hid more than he let on. He was someone who was aware of the inner workings of my business, yet completely ignorant to anything specifically about me-so ignorant so as to suggest that I was married. I'd made a habit of not focusing on gossip magazines and any sort of slur campaigns that competition made a point of setting out; however, despite my lack of involvement with the press, I was aware of the fact that I'd been either deemed married in secret, a lesbian, metrosexual, or any other form of orientation that didn't require the presence of a companion figure.

"Earlier you self proclaimed that you are proud of the work you've done, proud of the titles you've been given… Why do I get the feeling that is not true?"

My mind flashed back to the inopportune moment that I'd lost my footing on this impeccably inappropriate conversation. He'd studied me; I'd completely lost myself, which for now I was angry for, but I'd lost myself in the theory that having him submit before me might quench some sort of thirst within the pits of my womanhood that I'd been unable to satiate. He'd listened to what I was saying…

I'd been refusing myself even the basic opportunity of utilizing one well known but extremely evasive form of research; google. I'd spend the next half hour googling the name Christian Grey with little to no success, till I finally allowed my conscience the opportunity to convince me that research on people who interview you isn't by any legal standards a considerable crime. I'd soon reached Al, who'd heard and actioned my request in an instant. I'd spent the best part of my career building working closely with Al. Although a formal name or job title was never quite solidified or formally discussed, Al understood that in all things I gave him thanks, and the salary I paid him quite regularly also worked to be quite an incentive to have him stay.

It hadn't struck past three A.M. when I'd received an email from Al. The email contained several key words that I identified as code for what we'd discussed. You see, Al was ex-navy seal and naturally spent his free time considering stealthier ways to keep my private life private, especially considering the longevity of his business with me and understanding that my tastes were very… singular. I'd finally decrypted Al's message and in a moment I had nearly all of Christian Grey's private information populating at 3100 kb per second. He'd studied literature at Schulich School of Fine Arts, so he was an English literature major. His family consisted of two relatives, a mother and a father. I'd been shockingly surprised and immediately dismissed all preconceived facts I'd worked out in my mind of Mr Grey. I'd assumed with a man of his stature, of his wit, that he was one who'd required the aid of teachers attention in an effort to compensate what he was lacking due to the business of the Grey Household.

He worked as Literary Advisor for the Seattle Daily; a position of that nature with that kind of salary was one that wasn't o be overlooked or simply acknowledged quickly during a last minute interview. I'd felt as though I'd had the world drop on my face. My inability to focus probably resulted in an overall look of arrogance and stauchiness-the exact persona I'd spent my entire career intending to flush out.

His head office was located at 800 Presidents Commerce Blvd. I'd inevitably print out this address and stash it away in a folder among other pieces of highly sensitive information. I opened the drawer attached to my desk and pressed the power button associated with my label/sticker manufacturing printer. My fingers danced along the keyboard and my eyes darted from place to place on the screen till my printer came alive with a buzz and a whirl. Once it was finished the task I'd asked of it, I retrieved the small sticker that had been produced and carefully transferred it off the sticky tack onto the folder I'd taken from the other side of my drawer. I applied the sticker firmly to the top of the envelope and straightened out the papers underneath, transferring those into the envelope as well.

I laid it out before me and finally rose from my position at my desk; it was 4:30AM and soon time for a workout as sleeping was no longer a viable option. I took a look down at the envelope I'd just created and smirked a bit. Sure, we'd take a spin…

 _Submissive XV:  
Christian Grey_


	3. Chapter 3

"I'd dreamt about him again…"

"When…?"

"I'd say three nights ago…"

"Was it the same as all the other dreams, or have new details come about?"

I bit my lip, ignoring the gentle taunts that bit at my tongue; tempted to release the information that Dr Ferrick so desperately desired to achieve a breakthrough in his otherwise stoic patient.

"No… He slaps me. I cum, that's about it… As per usual."

His brow furrows and his dissatisfaction with my response is evident; for a psychologist he was unnervingly transparent. He looks at me, and for a minute I believe it's because he knows that I'm not telling the truth, and then he smiles. 

"Ana, it's evident that there is a part of you that still aches to relinquish control. You're the youngest multi-millionaire business conglomerate in Seattle. That truth alone is one that renders most people overwhelmed. By your own admission, the way in which you choose to… let off steam, if you will, is also one that disallows you the opportunity to relinquish control. You need an outlet; moreover, you need someone to tell you no…"

It's my turn to frown. Control over everything in my life is the only thing that keeps my head above water, without control I'd no doubt spiral into… It's a road not often visited; absolutely not. My distaste for his suggestion must be obvious as he uncrosses his legs and hoists his watch to eye level.

"Ana, our time is up. See you in two weeks…"

My workout with Sierra doesn't prove to alleviate any of the tension I felt. It had been nearly two weeks since my last real orgasm and in lieu of this; my belly had begun to ache with the desire of a fucking shot. I needed it. When I arrived home, Al was waiting with the final details on Mr Grey; I was like a kid in a candy store, ready for whatever new details may arise as some kind of collateral.

"He's employed there, but he spends an awful lot of time at the Bourbon Street Café. He was previously employed there, and frequently returns." Al didn't ask many questions but he frequently inferred into my personal life, as such he was-as I'm sure- aware of my taste and must've respected the fact that these sort of requests only happened once every quarter. Submissives had a shelf life, especially in this kind of business. Once every quarter I'd replace them-avoiding the discomfort that either may feel should feelings arise, as they had on previous circumstances.

"Would he be there now Al?" I ask, wiping my nose with the towel from my workout. He lifted his gaze to meet mine and his eyes flashed knowingly, humor on the edge of his iris. "Yes m'am." I smirk, my heart jumping in my chest-at the possibility of being one day closer to my next release? I was unsure. I found my way to my closet and began dressing casually, jeans and a white tshirt with some riding boots would suffice. I caught my reflection and my eyes hardened as I caught site of the paleness of my skin on my left thigh. My fingers grazed over that area, still feeling sensitive to the touch even after all these years.

" _You gonna be mommies big girl for me okay? Just for a little while… You're gonna be mommies big girl and I'm gonna come back for you once you're all done okay?_

 _Mommy was crying, her face was all wet and dark still from all of the smoke. I was always mommies big girl. She needed me to be big when we were running from the bad guys, but there was no bad guys we were running from. The door opened, and one of mommies scary friends came in._

" _You want your shit or not?" One of the scary guys held up a bag and mommy took it really fast. She hid it in her coat, she always asked me to hold it. She kissed my hand, her mouth was so cold all the time. "Be mommies big girl for me… Anya… big girl." She kissed me, her lips were dry and it scratched my forehead. The big scary guy came down, he looked at me and smiled-his teeth were scary._

" _Well looky here… You are little Anya? C'mon Anya, we're gonna have some fun…"_

I shook my head, the images leaving my mind not nearly as fast as they'd come. I slipped on my jeans and some converses to match; casual, I'm sure Christian liked casual. I grabbed my keys and headed down to the garage, choosing this time to drive myself with the lure of bringing him back with me. _Get him to sign the fucking document and that'll be it._ Three weeks is a long time to go, I'd been patient enough.

I'd spent the last three days gathering intel on Mr Grey; born November 21 1989 to Carrick and Grace Grey. Divorced in 1996 following a car accident that rendered the marriage "Irreconcilable" which led the remarriage of Grace who now held the title of Grace Trevelyan-Andrews. Christian, the only child, graduated from Arthur-Lambert High School and moved on to Schulich School of Fine Arts; he graduated two years too late, so he was either not the sharpest pencil in the box or, a man of disobedience. Criminal Record, several assault and battery charges-none of which pressed and laid and a mysterious rehabilitation as there was the graduation from Schulich with several honor nods. Mysterious and hot-headed; dangerous.

It hadn't been long enough I'd been driving, reviewing the information at every red light I came across that I pulled up to the small café. I parked directly outside and for a minute I could see the inside of the café and there he was; he was reading as it would appear, what did he like to read? The window sill wasn't shallow enough to allow me the opportunity to see what kind of fancy caffeine enriched beverage he might be enjoying. He scratched lightly at his chin, the faint presence of 5 0'clock shadow present on his face-God, what it would be like to ride that face. I snapped myself out of that reverie and pushed the engine to a stop. I found my bearings and began my descent into the café, I hadn't worked out a plan per se but I suppose we'd just… wing it?

I walked in and began directly for the counter, the barista looking overly amused at the presence of a strangers face. "Hello! Welcome to Bourbon St, what can I get for you?" She said with an inviting yet insanely terrifying smile. I nodded, "One americano please, two shots. Can I get a vanilla dose as well? Thank you…" I produced my credit card quickly and soon was moving to the side of the counter where the Americano was soon waiting for me along with complimentary tea biscuits. I grabbed my items and turned, nearly spilling my coffee everywhere I was caught off guard. He was in front of me. 

"Ms Steele? What a surprise… I wouldn't expect you to be in here." He smiled, his eyes never complimenting it yet nonetheless seeming delighted at my presence. I looked him over, a red and white plaid shirt loosely and half tucked into black jeans, the zipper catching my gaze above all things as in place of that there were three vertical buttons-I'm sure my imagination contributed to this but the buttons buckling against the girth that so desperately was waiting for me to satisfy, to teach, to educate.

"Ana, please… Mr Grey, I hadn't imagined I'd see you here either. Just stopping by?" I cleared my throat as my palms began to sweat, I attributed it to the warmth of the coffee, but I knew that something strange was happening whenever I was around this man. He smirked a little and ran his fingers through his hair, "Well, my cousin owns the place, so I always try to stop by when I can as opposed to those Starbucks chains-y'know… help out a mom and pop shop." He smiles his brilliant smile and in minute I'm clammering to remember what I was attempting to get out of this meeting.

It wasn't long before we got to talking and I'd discovered he was reading On the Road by Jack Kerouac. He was normally quiet but once acknowledging the presence of Kerouac's Masterpiece, he began to unravel in a series of hair combing and the constant use of the world 'Unbelievable'. Our conversation had been a blur until I was abruptly brought back to present day.

"You would do that?" His face was full of shock, his mouth slightly parted at the idea of what we had been talking about, which I guiltily had completely forgotten. "I beg your pardon?" My cheeks flushed red and I could feel the blush all the way around my ears. _C'mon Ana, pull your shit together._ "The paper, you would do a photoshoot? I mean, Blake would be really appreciative." His tone was full of nervousness, as though he were concerned that with every word he said it'd be subject to some kind of scrutiny. I nodded and fished through my jacket pocket, producing a business card. I slid it over to him and snaked an eye at my watch: 3:00 and soon time to meet with Claude to discuss matters of little importance compared to this obnoxious feat.

"Call me before ten." I smile sweetly and get up. "I'll be staying locally at the Heathman, I'd be happy to help." I smile again and grab my biscuits making my way to the car, each step I take tempting my clitoris at the sweet friction produced in my jeans. I opened the door to my car, subtly aware of the fact that his eyes were still on me. I jumped in and threw the biscuits to the passenger side. I looked back once and saw that he was now peering at the business card. A smug smile crept onto my face as I began my drive back to Seattle. I activated the Bluetooth on my blackberry and Al's voice filled the car.

"M'am?"

"Al… Book me a room at the Heathman. Three nights starting tonight."


	4. Chapter 4

_"_ _You've been a naughty girl Ana... Very naughty..."_

 _I bite my lip, my body's reaction to the aching satisfaction that was betraying my anger that had quickly begun to develop. I curl my toes, planting my feet on the ground as I begin to clench my ass-the ginger root stinging the opening to my anus as I attempt to push my hips forward-needing any kind of friction to bring me to a point of release so as to put an end to this torment. But God... it felt so good..._

 _"_ _Oh, you want to cum so bad... Don't you Anastasia...?"_

 _I stifle a moan and my eyes shoot open, my body starts to betray me and tears begin streaming down my face._

 _"_ _Don't call me that..."  
He slaps me and I feel my body rising, climbing towards the orgasm that I'm trying so desparately to prevent-If he makes me cum then I won't be able to for a while..._ _and I don't want to go through that again._

 _"_ _It isn't up to you is it?!" His voice turns and becomes ugly... so ugly. I look up and green eyes are replaced with dark, ugly gray. My breath hitches in my throat and I open my mouth to scream-but I can't._

 _"_ _Is it... Anya?"_

"No!" I scream and wake in a jolt, covered in sweat and repulsively wet from the dreams prior to my nightmarish awakening. I take a few deep breaths and gaze over at the clock: 6:45AM and time to get up. I lift the comforter and twist my face into a look of utter disgust. _Look, she's enjoying it..._ I shake the memory from my head and sink my teeth into my bottom lip. No Steele, you mustn't go there-you don't pay your therapist nearly $1000.00 every visit to go there. I swing my legs over the bed and find myself under the rehabilitating waters of my luxury shower. I lean my forehead against the cool tiles, allowing the water to cascade down my back, folding over my ass and pooling at my feet. All I need is a good fuck to get my mind off this shit. If I can only get to sign the document, I can let all of my fantasies run wild and cage the beast-get the Holy O that I've been clamouring for, for the last two weeks. As I step out of the shower I stalk to my closet and pull on a pale pink blouse, my Celinee pencil skirt and pale tan Lou Boutins. I give myself a stare and rake my fingers through my hair pulling it up off my shoulders-he liked it off my shoulders didn't he?

It isn't long that I'm consulting with my mirror before I grab my blackberry and trench coat and make my way to the adjacent room holding Javi and Gia. I log in quickly to the computer at Javi's desk and allow Gia to debrief me on the morning's activities.

"You have a meeting with Senator Kline at 7:15AM with respects to the Geneva Ordeal that happened last week, I allowed an hour for that meeting. Then you have a conference call with Christina Monroe-she wasn't very forthcoming with her reasonings but if I may be so bold Ma'am I suspect it to be in relation to the offer you've received from Nike to establish an advertisement firm in accordance with the special you had with Robert Jones.."

"The special I had with Robert Jones was based specifically on the connection they had with Altrex Mining Corporation. Unless Nike has business ties to Oil Distributors that I've not been made aware of in my quarterly report then I don't have any reason to discuss that with her. Next..."

"Very good . After that you have the scheduled photoshoot with Blake Manchester and your schedule is clear until 12:00PM"

Perfect. All the time I'll need to seduce into the idea of living the life of a submissive, something tells me that the way he'd been staring at my ass on our previous interaction states that I won't nearly need all afternoon. _Although you might want all afternoon Ana..._ I shake my head and pierce through the emails that had been sent overnight pausing over the email that Christian had sent me confirming the photoshoot appointment.

Miss Steele

Thank you again for taking the time to join us-Blake is over the moon.

Another thank you is in order as I realize that the Heathrow room has been booked but not from my doing; so thank you again.

I look forward to seeing you again Miss Steel

Christian Grey  
Literary Consultant  
Seattle Daily LTD.

I feel my face pull upwards in a smile and catch my lip in between my teeth. God, I can see him now on his knees, begging for the crack of the whip-the candy apple red ball gag in his mouth preventing him from shouting out, clamping onto him as I ride out my very first orgasm in nearly two weeks-Jesus it's been too long. I spin my ring on my finger and quickly reply to the email:

The pleasure is all mine. The Heathrow Room has the best open concept space and would only make sense for the equipment I'm sure you'll be bringing for the photoshoot.

I look forward to a most entertaining shoot.

Anastasia Steele  
CEO, Steele Enterprises Holdings

It's not long before I find myself abstracted and uncomfortable under the industry standard lighting, holding the focus and attention that a female CEO must while being photographed. Chelsey Hannover is the name of the photographer; 5'6" perhaps 5'7" with sundried blonde hair and clothing much more expensive than a photographer working for the Seattle Daily could manage. Beyond the photographer is my boon, my prize that I have yet to Grey. Wearing grey slacks with a white button down, he's got both hands in his front pockets-pushing his manhood front and centre for me to enjoy. His hair perfectly quaffed and his 5'o clock shadow now a nicely groomed beard. I find my eyes drifting over to him several times as the forthcoming and rather flirtatious Blake Manchester whispers back and forth-Bitch is really getting on my nerves.

"Thanks so much for doing this ... Seattle Daily will make sure we run a full front cover for all the trouble!"

I scoff internally and try my hardest to suppress the laughter. As editor of Seattle Daily one would think that would know that making me front cover is the only rational money making option given the other contenders for front page-I've read Seattle Daily, they don't talk about much. It occurs to me then, as I watch her slap Christian's arm in a playful gesture to a joke they've shared that she's doing this on purpose. My only satisfaction comes from Christian's obvious annoyance at the gesticulation, and him fixing his gaze on me again-so I do have your attention... I'm snapped from my reverie as Hannover reviews the still shots she's gotten on her Canon T-5i and spews a proverbial ha! She's gotten the shot's she needs and no longer requires the blinding light fixtures. With a flick of her wrist my vision is rehabilitated and before me I realize Christian has bridged the gap between us.

"Thanks again , I appreciate your doing this-I know it means a lot to Blake to have these photographs..."

He wants to say more, I can see his eyes squint with determination as though he's fetching for words he can't conjure. I gaze over his shoulder for a moment and push my chin in the direction of the editor-turning red by the second and appearing as though she may combust. I smirk and it occurs to me that I'm winning, might as well make the most of it. "Would you like to join me across the street? There's a small gap in my schedule to allow for some down time and I don't suppose there's anything pressing that might be keeping you..."

I gather my things and sweep my hair behind my ear waiting for my answer. He stammers and pushes his fists further down into his pants pocket. "Um sure... Let me just tell Blake that I'm going and we can head right over." He seems shocked and his voice suggests perplexity... Don't worry baby it'll all make sense soon. I nod to Gia and Javi and proceed with instruction to have them escort my bags back up to my suite, leaving with everything but my blackberry and purse. I'll need the envelopes inside. I glance over at my submissive to be and it occurs to me that a miniscule argument is taking place, Blake is jealous. I smirk and begin my eavesdropping.

"Christian, I really need your help with editing this article-you interviewed her..."

"I know that, and I will help you... I'm not doing it now. Take my car back and once you get home I'll come over to help you edit everything..." Hmm... Full access to the home of the Editor, I don't suppose these two are in a romantic relationship given how quickly he agreed to my coffee proposal-or perhaps he's only agreed on the foundation that it'll mean good business for Seattle Daily. Fuck, perhaps this is an ulterior motive. I'll need to make sure I do more research before the yellow envelope comes out. The Editor gazes up and I cover my eavesdropping with handing Javi my final bag before they make their ascent to the Presidential Suite I've been given for my stay. The fight seems over and Christian assumes his place by my side... _his place? Snap out of it Ana..._

"Ready?" He puts on a crooked smile and I glimpse the corner of his tongue; the muscles under my belly button quake and I find the heat moving to my cheeks as I imagine spending hours letting him torment my clit with what I'm sure must be a skilled muscle. "Yes..." I grab my purse and we begin our walk to the coffee shop. I order an Americano Dark roast with two butternut scones and a Chilean Sundiver Dark Roast for Christian. We find an intimate location within the coffee shop and assume our places, me taking note of Christian's nervous position in his chair.

"Are you intimidated by successful women ?"

He looks up and his brows knit together in a frown; it seems as though I've offended him.

"Christian... and no Anastasia, I'm not intimidated by you or by successful women in general. I find you mercurial-and people who are both powerful and mercurial are people with whom you should tread lightly." I nearly shoot out of my seat and the overwhelming urge to slap the shit out of this man is one that I have to quickly discount in the interest of keeping my public image as relatively clean as possible. He seems to be aware of the affect that he's had on me because I notice the faintest smirk on his face as he lifts the porcelain cup to his lips, pursing them to welcome his Chilean Sundiver. I'm wet in two seconds and I must be careful to remember the presence of the public that I'm in.

"Mercurial, means unpredictable Christian... and unpredictable I am not..." He raises his eyebrow to suggest he disagrees with my statement but says no more to belabour his point.

"So tell me about how you got involved with Seattle Daily..."I counter and begin my acquisition of information that Al simply couldn't provide. He visibly calms and sets down the mug as though he's finally in his element. He straightens out his cuffs and I notice that he's wearing Creed Green Irish cologne-an expensive yet reminiscent brand.

 _"_ _How would you like it if I bent you over this table right here and showed you exactly what a woman like you does to a man like me?"_

 _I gasp and his hand grips my knee and I'm whimpering at the force he applies to my exposed flesh. He leans over and whispers in my ear, I look around using only my eyes-careful not to move my head and suggest his flirtatious nature isn't 'welcomed' by any standard. The other diners are oblivious to what's going on and it reminds me that it's only me living this hell. "Remember... I own you... In every way Anya I own that tight little ass and I'll take you when I want-where I want"_

 _I pierce my eyes shut and nod as the scent of Creed Green Irish resonates through my nostrils and I'm sick to my stomach. He grabs my chin and brings me in for a kiss, barely worthy of the word as he simply attaches his mouth to whatever part of my face he deems to be acceptable to kiss in public. My nose burns and I'm holding back my tears-I hate when he kisses me in public... Don't cry Ana... Don't cry._

"Anastasia... Anastasia... !" I hold my hands up and push Christian's hand off me, reprimanding with my diversion and my look that I'm not appreciative of him invading my personal space. "I'm sorry Christian... I... I can't." I get up and grab my purse heading towards the door quickly, not holding back and desperate to escape he scent of _him._ "Anastasia!" I shut my eyes tight and before I know it I'm doubled over and emptying the contents of my stomach on the side of a Seattle Coffee House-class act I am. I can vaguely hear the voice of Christian in the background but can only focus on disposing of the vile contents of my memory. I feel my hair pulled from my shoulders and I'm aware that he's holding my hair simultaneously pulling me into the corner of the building to preserve what little dignity I have remaining.

"Anastasia... What the hell happened?" He breathes and it's as though he's run a marathon. I push him away stumbling against the wall a bit. "Don't call me that! It's Ana! Or to you rather!" I blurt and it occurs to me that I'm defracting, losing my ground as would put it; the drunk like state that a "Trauma Victim" incurs once they've found themselves either smelling, tasting or feeling a way that they would've felt when an intense amount of physical or emotional trauma has taken place. Similar to the way one may feel when they've smelt Jaegermeister after succumbing to alcohol poisoning on a previous event from the same liquor. I look up and hear Christian's argument as he suggests why he won't call me and is perfectly fine calling me by my first name. I reach out and grab whatever I can before I realize that I'm falling.

"Anastasia!" I can hear him yelling but my vision is getting hazy and all I feel is darkness. "Anastasia!" God, more of that smell... I can't stand that smell.

Creed Green Irish...

I hate that smell...


	5. Chapter 5

Cinnamon and maple syrup; where am I?

My eyes wake before I do and am fully aware that I'm not in my apartment in Escala. Only a few moments later as if by some divine intervention bred only from syncisism; my scalp begins to ache and the sensitivity to the sunlight streaming through the windows is enough to defeat me and render me paralyzed. Mmm... the sheets are so soft. I gather that Al must've found me and gathered me to a hotel room so as to oppose any paparazzi that might be staked out of Escala waiting for Anastasia Steele to make a fuck up. I cinched my eyes closed and beckoned my hand to rub my face- I was so dead tired, I haven't felt like this in a long time...

"Anastasia..."

That voice! I shoot up and it takes a second for my vision to focus but when it does-there he is. Christian Grey, standing in a grey tshirt and sweat pants-sweaty no less; more than likely due to a morning run as I see the water bottle next to him. "How are you feeling?" I glare at him and look around, deciding his question is answered enough in my appearance. I realize that we're in a loft setting, the bed I'm in sitting upon a wooden platform and red brick walls leaving no grace for the light along with the white linen curtains covered only in panels by heavy grey and hence causing an unnatural amount to be bounced off the inside-it looks so... romantic. I shut my eyes again and allow the internal dialogue to begin:

 _Ana! How could you do this to yourself! You're the most powerful bachelorette in Seattle and now you've just fucked a nobody-working for a publication house!_

Yeah, yeah- I get it. I glare at him and push the covers on me realizing that I'm in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, the lighter patch of skin on my thigh noticeable but honestly whatever we'd done I'm sure he'd seen enough. _If only you'd worked faster and then you'd have gotten him to sign the NDA, none of this would be an issue._ I begin the trek for my clothes and his voice rings across my ears:

"Uh... Yeah you're clothes are in the wash. There's breakfast here for you as well-Doesn't look as though you retained a lot of what you ate yesterday..." My eye twitches, my back to him and a fire burns within my belly-not one of lust but complete and total disruption. I turn on my heel and stare at him, his eyes meeting mine and never faltering.

"Mr Grey, I'm enormously grateful for your hospitality-but I think the exhibition we'd done last night would be enough of a story for your little girlfriend. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm getting my clothes and I'm leaving. You can expect a sixty page injunction on your desk by the time you get into work today on whatever activities you plan on leaking to the press that we may have done last night." And with said Broadway show I quickly grabbed my cell phone, dialing Al to determine what sort of damage control was necessary for such a flagrant blunder on my part. Before I can lift the phone to my ear Christian has my phone and tosses it on the bed standing in front of me; I'm in a state of shock and so I can barely react when he begins pushing me towards the chair.

"First of all, my name is Christian-not Mr Grey. Secondly, I'm not too sure what you think went on last night, but for your information you vomited, passed out, and I surely wasn't going to leave you on the side of the building so I brought you here and let you sleep. Thirdly..." He takes a step closer and my breathing hitches in my throat, all of my years of domination should've kicked in at this point but I was paralyzed of all action-as if his presence completely intoxicated me. "... If we did do anything last night, I'd never tell anyone... I'm not like one of your brazen boy toys that fucks for a dime." As he finishes his sentence, we're close... very close. I can feel his breath on my nose and his body is completely tense and free of any leisure. I've upset him-and he's brave enough to prove it."

So we didn't do anything last night... What on earth did he do? Take pictures? Search my stuff-surely the opportunity to violate the Top Business Woman in Seattle was not overturned especially in situations like we'd apparently been.

"So what happened...? Were you hungover or something? I can't imagine the top business woman in Seattle not being hungover on a Saturday morning. You know... if you were-you shouldn't get drunk to the point of next day vomiting. I'm all for having a good time, but especially if you have obligations the next day like photoshoots, you should try to ere on the side of caution..."

All I can hear is his scolding voice and I'm riled up again, no one talks to me like that. "I'm aware of that, **Mr Grey** and I appreciate your concern but whatever it is that you found I'm going to make sure that I get it..." I seethe and in a moment his head cocks and his eyes are on mine. I feel it; the streak between us, the energy is palpable and in a matter of seconds I find my mouth on his. I moan and the fire in my stomach begins its burn; God I've been needing this. His hands reach for the back of my head and I quickly pull my legs up to his sides, forcing them underneath me for support. I grab the back of his neck, fisting the hair there as my tongue aggressively invades his mouth. His groan ripples through my mouth and I can feel how wet I am, how ready. He grabs my ass and begins his walk towards the wall backing me up against it. I kick off and redirect us to the bed, forcing him on his back. He looks up at me and holds my ass in both his hands.

"Are you this infuriating with everyone, or just me?" He whispers breathlessly and the effect it has on my body is instant. I smirk not saying anything and pull the t-shirt over my head-so he didn't take my bra or under wear off, what a gentleman. He reaches up to grab my breasts and I place mine over his, guiding them back to my rear. "Down here... not up here." His confusion is evident on his brow but the erection I feel beyond his trousers is enough to keep his inquisitive mind from asking more questions. I reach behind and unclasp my bra tossing it to the side. Next are my panties as I quickly straddle his haunches and push them off with my feet. I reach between my legs and bite my lip-three weeks is much too long to go without and especially with no NDA, we'll just have to make do.

I watch as his eyes travel over my body, his hunger evident in his gaze as he memorizes every curve. Get it while you have it Christian, you won't be seeing much more of it without that contract. I quickly pull him up by his shirt ushering him to lift his shirt above his head and grasping the front of his pants. He bucks up against my touch and it aggressively grazes my clit, causing me to cry out.

"God, I love that sound..."

I look down at him, hooded eyes of mine making my vision hazy and unclear. I see him reach for the side drawer and quickly hold his hand down. "I hate those... I'm on the pill." I whisper and lower myself onto him allowing a gasp to leave my lips as he fills me. Jesus, he's big. I bury him deep inside me till I'm sitting back on his knees and grind my clit against his happy trail. He groans and I nearly cum right there. I begin my torment and start riding him-his cock rippling through me as I near my climax. _God I can feel it... I'm so close._ "God, Christian!" I gasp; my voice a high pitched whisper that I barely recognize. "I know... c'mon baby-c'mon!" His hand swiftly leaves mine and moves between us stroking my clit and I'm cumming in a spur of screams and cries.

"Shit... Anastasia!" I clamp around him and soon are riding the residual waves of our sex. I wrap my arm around his neck and press my body close to his, his hands on either side of him and my rear keeping us steady.

It doesn't take long before the afterglow is gone and the realization sets in that I'm straddling the cock of a Literary Advisor for Seattle Daily. I swiftly swing my leg around and pull his t-shirt back on, hoping for some kind of modesty and grab my phone. "Do you know if the clothes are done washing?" I ask, my one arm tucked under the other as I wait for Al to respond. He looks dumbfounded, wasted and satiated-the latter not being much of a surprise. He quickly tucks himself away and nods pointing to a room just beyond a red brick wall.

"Yeah, I'll go fetch them for you..."

He nods and his jaw is rounded, he's upset. Why? Men do this all the time. With Submissive number two, Dwayne, he was all to happy to get up and go once the leashes were off. My mind goes away with me and soon Al's voice fills my ear.

"Ma'am..." He's concerned, he's never seen me stay a night anywhere other than home-the night terrors aren't typically a good conversation over breakfast the next morning. "Al... I'll need you to come pick me up, and arrange for an emergency conference with the owner of Seattle Daily to discuss business consolidation." If I'd just fucked this man silly with no NDA, I needed some form of collateral.

"Right away Ma'am, address?"

"Just track my phone... I'll see you in a minute"

I put my phone away just as Christian re-enters the room, clothes in hand and face still stuck in a wayward fashion. "Here..." He lays them on the bed and makes an immediate B-Line for the shower leaving me to dress. I sigh and pull the shirt off pulling on my undergarments and dressing in my skirt and blouse. I look myself over and pull my hair into a pony-tail. I take a peak outside of the window and am relieved to see no paparazzi outside.

 _"_ _Now... Ana. Look outside, do you see paparazzi."_

 _I gaze outside, my eyes big with wonder and completely prepared for my next lesson. I gaze up at his Green eyes and nod my head. "Yes, sir..." I whisper and he smirks clucking his tongue. "Eyes down Ana... Remember." I nod and a blush heats my cheeks in embarrassment and adventure. "Now Ana... What do you suppose_ _we do so we aren't seen?" I shake my head and fold my hands over my bare lap._

 _"_ _I don't know Sir..."I can feel his smirk and I know I must've done something to please him. "Well Ana, there is always a backdoor." His mouth makes a sound as it parts over his teeth and I bite my lip to stifle my giggle. Master was always so good at making jokes._

 _"_ _You must always remember Ana... When you are in a public place-there is always a back door."_

I shake my head of the memory and look down at my phone. I'll need to call him... speak to him about what's been going on-he won't be happy to learn of all the mistakes I've made but I'll need this guidance. I look down at my phone and it buzzes to let me know that Al has found me and is waiting downstairs. I look back at the door leading to the shower and with the ache in my belly no longer an issue, I resist the temptation to join him. Instead I find a pad and pen from his side drawer and plaster a note together, leaving it on top of the breakfast.

I take one look around and grab my trench coat leaving closing the door behind me. Once inside Al takes off and we're on the road back to home where I'll have my meeting to absorb Seattle Daily, the anxiety in my belly forcing me to call...

"Ana..."

"I'm in trouble Garreson..."

"Ahh... What kind of trouble my Ana?"

"I've broken Rule 4 of the Domination Code."

"Shhhh... That's a tough one Ana. Come by my office at 8:00PM. We'll discuss damage control."

"Thank you... How's Amber?"

"Oh... She's good. She doesn't quite have your temperament. But then again... no one has."

"I'll see you at 8:00PM."

"Goodbye Ana."


End file.
